Are you from Jamaica? Because Jamaican me crazy! But really --all puns aside, you're driving me crazy.
I suppose I should love you. After all, I'm a 20-something web savvy, social networking girl who unabashedly went to college hoping for an MRS degree (obviously that didn't pan out), and loves painting her nails and eating cupcakes. Plus, most of my friends love you. They're inspired, invigorated, and motivated by you. But me? You just make crazy. Let me explain.
Despite what some mean ex-boyfriends would say about me, I like to think of myself as a nice, normal, 23-year old girl. I feed myself at restaurants and vending machines, and I haven't set foot in a grocery store in almost two months. I don't have a boyfriend and I'm okay with that-- I have a ton of fun with my friends, and I sometimes wonder if I even have the time to invest in a relationship right now. I have a closet filled with a fantastic mix of clothes from J. Crew, Banana Republic, Target and JCPenney. I rent a room in a condo from my best girlfriend. I like my life. It's messy and imperfect, but it's mine, and I'm content. Until I visit you, that is.I try to avoid you, I really do. But you pop up everywhere --blogs, twitter, my facebook newsfeed-- beckoning me with your trendy, perfectly painted fingernail. And I always give in. "Just 15 minutes before I start this project," I tell myself. And after just 15 minutes with you? I can't stop. I can feel the crazy coming on, but I keep going. Next thing I know, I have my 17th wedding planned out, 300 low-fat meals, 77 art projects, 43 fabulous outfits, and 96 ab-toning workout plans pinned. In the course of minutes, you have turned me into some crazed, wedding-obsessed, crafty, over-ambitious Stepford Wife.
Why do you show me these things? I don't have a boyfriend, I can't afford those adorable outfits, and my idea of creative cooking is ordering something from the kitchen that's not on the menu. And let's be honest-- I am not Martha Stewart, and I will never make those cute, eco-friendly lightbulb flower holders. Maybe someday I'll get to that point in my life. Someday, I'll love cooking and have a fiancé and it will be appropriate to plan a wedding. Maybe I'll even have tens of thousands of dollars to spend renovating my dream bathroom. But right now? Not so much. You're thrusting me into this fantasy future and stealing hours and hours from my actual life, which I should be living.
So, I'm sorry, Pinterest. But I think we've run our course. Our time together has been special, but my heart just isn't in it anymore. It's not you, it's me. I want us to be friends, but I don't think that's possible right now. Maybe I'll see you in 5 or 10 years, when I'm ready to organize my closet.
Love,
Lindsey
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